Footfall

Van der Stel had been right, as usual; this was an excellent place to observe the spaceport, high enough to give them a good view, but not conspicuously high.

Carruthers might have been reading too much into what he could see. On the other hand, he might not. In the past hour the snouts had certainly closed two cargo hatches on the big ship. They’d removed the two loading cranes that went with those ports. Most of the other baggage carts had been removed to the other side of the field. “It sure looks like they’re doing something. How’re the Russkis coming?”

“We are coming quite well, Colonel,” a voice said from behind him.

Ooops! “Thank you, Lieutenant. You’ve got your missile set up?”

“Presently.”

“Good. Looks like we have about half an hour.”

“I will encourage the crew to hurry.”

Carter sat in the tall grass and took out his pipe.

“Nice thing about a pipe,” Carruthers said. “Don’t need to light it. Colonel—”

“Spit it out.”

“Will it work? Sir? I mean, they had to carry it a long way, and—”

“Got a better plan?”

“No, sir.”

“It’s worth a try, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

And no, I didn’t answer your question, son. How could I? He grinned, but to himself, as he remembered a story from one of the innumerable Arab-Israeli wars. An Arab president had cabled to Moscow: “Stop sending surface to air missiles. Send surface to aircraft missiles.”

So far it hasn’t cost us anything but some sweat. So far. When they launched that Russian missile that would all change. They’d have to run for it, scatter, and hope they all made it to the rendezvous points. Carter glanced at his watch, then back to the low railed structure the Soviet troops had bolted together. “Okay, Sergeant. Spread ’em out.”

“Sir.”

There was definite activity at the spaceport. All the auxiliary vehicles had been withdrawn. Now the great hulk of the alien spacecraft sat alone.

An enormous concrete structure opened nearby.

“The laser,” Carter said. “Hit that, and we splatter that ship all over the landscape.” He handed his binoculars to Lieutenant Carruthers and turned to the Soviet officer. “All set?”

“Da.” Semeyusov’s eyes glittered expectantly. “It is a good missile. A good missile.”

“I sure hope so.”—

“Colonel!”

“Yeah, Carruthers?”

“They’ve opened a hangar. Something coming out-coming this way. Shit!”

Carter grabbed the binoculars.

More than a dozen of the fast-moving light ground effect vehicles Carter had come to call “skimmers” moved across the spaceport. When they reached the fence they rose over it, then spread out across the veldt. One was coming directly toward their hill.

Behind the skimmers came eight tanks.

Lieutenant Semeyusov’s voice was emotionless. “Your orders, Comrade Colonel?”

“Wait. Maybe they won’t see us.”

The skimmer came on, past the area where Mvubi’s scouts were hidden.

“Still coming,” Carruthers said. “Colonel, if they didn’t see his people, they won’t see us.”—

“And if they go straight past us, they’ll see the damn missile,” Carter said. They’ll be here in a second. Once past us, they’re sure to see the missile. He thumbed the channel control on his helmet radio. “Sergeant Harrison. If that skimmer comes within fifty meters, take it out.”

“Sir.” Harrison was invisible somewhere off to the left.

Lieutenant Carruthers unlimbered a light antitank tube. “Custer’s last stand.”

“Something like that,” Carter said. “Maybe they won’t come.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Semeyusov spoke quickly into his phone. “They are ready—”

The first skimmer reached the bottom of the hill. Another converged toward it.

Carter lifted the transmitter. “Mvubi. uSuthu!”

“Tchaka!” A moment later automatic weapons chattered from the veldt between Carter and the spaceport. The trailing skimmer

wobbled, then fell.

“Launch your bloody missile,” Carter ordered. “It’s too late to get the spaceship. Try for the laser anyway.”

“With respect, Colonel, perhaps they will launch their ship anyway. It is a better target.”

“Why in hell would they launch during an ambush?”

For answer, Semeyusov pointed. Thick white smoke rose from the base platform around the alien spacecraft.

“Son of a bitch! Okay!”

“Only now we got to stop those tanks,” Carruthers said carefully. “I don’t think Mvubi’s people will hold them long.”

“We’ll do the best we can—”

The alien ship rose suddenly. The rocket platform that boosted it fell back, as a brilliant blue-green beam stabbed up from the concrete structure at the center of the spaceport.

“Any time now!” Carter shouted. Lieutenant Semeyusov spoke rapidly.

The leading skimmer was climbing the hill toward them. There was a sharp flash from the bush to their right. A dark shadow moved toward the alien hovercraft, rushed at it, touched it— The skimmer exploded in fire. “Two down! Hoo hah!” Carruthers shouted. “Bring on the motherfucking tanks!”

Tanks hell, where’s that damn missile? Thunder rolled toward them. The spacecraft rose on its beam of green fire. Three smaller beams stabbed downward. They moved in an odd pattern. There was a flash of fire, and the Russian missile tumbled in smoke. It fell into the veldt.